Just a dream

It feels like my life is a dream. A long dream that never ends. A dream that I live through someone else's eyes- this other person I have become. I don't like this girl. Where I was forever optimistic, she fears the worst is yet to come. Where I always looked at the positive side, she seems to pick out the darker shades of grey undertones in everyone. Who is this girl? She is younger and more vulnerable. I am not quite sure who she is.

Sometimes I feel like I am walking around with this big sign on my forehead. Like everyone can see this major change/event that has happened. When people casually ask me how I am at work, I smile and say something about the weather or some other unrelated task. It seems odd to me that they can't see it. I feel self conscious. Or maybe it's that I feel his presence no matter where I am. I imagine his hand rubbing through my hair as I sit through a meeting. Little fragments of memory pop out everywhere- his favorite tea flavor, the mug he got me for mothers day. I scoop out the last spoonful of honey out of the big jar he bought so that I would always have enough. My friends coming over would always laugh and ask if I had enough honey. He wasn't counting on not being able to buy another one at the farmers market.
.
.
.
I dreamt about you again last night. This time you talked to me. I told you about how I wasn't sure if your friend N and Sean knew about what had happened, since I wasn't able to get a hold of them. You nodded. I told you about how many people came to the funeral and how you were loved by so many people. In the dream, I remember being so happy that you were finally talking instead of that silence that always greeted me. Yet now, I can't remember a single thing you said. Damn this broken memory. Maybe tomorrow...